The heat is scorching as Aaliyah bends over in the fields, plucking up ripened strawberries from their stems. Some she has to snip with the pair of shears at her hip; the stem being too thick for her own coarse, work-hardened hands to pull from. There’s a slight sheen of sweat that coats her darkened skin - it hugs her back, slowly drips down from her temples, gathers in the crook of her arm. She doesn’t notice it one time.

“Aaliyah!” A few strands of her thick, coarse dark brown hair slips from the braid on her back, as she glances up at the sound of someone saying her name. She grins as she glances over at her grandfather, as he walks towards her. His eyes crinkle in the corners, his skin wrinkled with age, but still shining with happiness. He reaches a hand towards her, wriggling his fingers, demanding the shears from her hip. As soon as she places them in his palm, he lowers himself down to his knees, beginning to help trim and gather their produce for the season.

It’s just the two of them, always has been - always will be. No other living relatives are even known of, much less anywhere near them, and they’re fine with that. They don’t need a large circle to have a family.

A few hours later, just as the sun is setting, a few horses ride towards them in the distance. Aaliyah can just barely make out the flags waved by their riders, much less the design or colors, enough to be able to tell her grandfather who it is they are now anticipating to speak to tonight.

“Pa, it’s them.” The moment the words leave her lips, her grandfather forces her to her feet, and gently shoves her towards the farmhouse.

“Get inside - now. I will deal with this,” he insists, shooing her off, while bending back over to go back to his work.

“Pa, you’re not thirty anymore.” There’s no way you can fight the collectors and live to tell the tale now. The words remain unspoken, but the worry is there, in her voice, in the urgency of the situation. He shakes his head with a soft chuckle at the seriousness of the situation, before shoving her forwards. Go. She finally goes into the farmhouse - but stays by the window in order to watch what unfolds.

It isn’t pleasant. At first it seems like everything might be alright, perhaps an unfortunate misunderstanding of some sort. But the more time passes, the more clear it becomes that it is anything other than such a simple visit. By the time it dawns on Aaliyah, it’s far too late for her to do anything. One soldier has lit a torch and poured what appears to be oils used to start ritual burnings, as far over the field as he can reach - another soldier has blown out her grandfather’s knees, he can no longer stand.

Just as she pushes the farmhouse door open, shouting at the men, starting to rush towards her only relative she’s ever known, the farm goes up in flames, flames high enough to engulf her grandfather, and even nearly encircle her. She’s about to rush into the fire anyway to save her grandfather, when she watches him collapse onto the ground, as he yells at her to run.

This brings the soldiers attention to her, standing still in the middle of the untouched land nearest her. They glance at one another, their hands on their sword hilts, before they nod and start to walk towards her, finally startling her enough to force her to run for her life, far away from her dying grandfather. At first, she doesn’t have a single moment to spare to let what had just happened settle in her memory. Then, once she’s looked over her shoulder a sixth time, and not been able to see the soldiers at all, not even little specks behind her, and only then, does she finally burst into tears, still running, her feet not stopping as she runs towards the shipping docks.

She stumbles over her own bare feet, hardly taking any notice at how scuffed up her toes look, how blackened the tops and bottoms of her feet are. She barely catches herself against the hull of one of the ships nearby, just as it’s starting to pull out to sea. She tries to catch her breath, but just as she inhales, hands extend, shouting out to her, voices muffled. Her wrists are grabbed gently - yet tightly - hoisting her up onto the ship, just as everything falls away from her and into darkness.

**

She wakes in a hammock on the deck of a ship. Startled, she nearly jumps off the swinging hammock, but grabs onto the edges in time. The sea is calm, but there’s the hustle and bustle of deckhands rushing everywhere. Finally, Aaliyah slowly lowers herself from the hammock, bare feet hitting the wood planks of the ship, not covered in dirt like the pier. Yet, she still stumbles, trying to catch her balance. A young woman with silvery-white hair walks over to her, captain’s hat underneath her arm. The woman’s boots make the most satisfying clicking noises as she walks across the ship towards her. Aaliyah steps backwards, still losing her footing as she tumbles back into the hammock. The woman finally offers her a soft smile.

“My name is Keres.” She doesn’t ask Aaliyah’s. As if able to read her mind, Keres continues. “I’m aware of your situation. Before you ask ‘how,’ let me illuminate you. You were very clearly on the run and barely made it to us in time. If we’d left you behind - we’d have left you to die, and that is against the code. We are sailing to the West, until we hit land, and that’s where we’ll drop you off. You’re welcome.” Just as Aaliyah goes to ask her if she can read her mind, she holds up a finger. “And no, I do not read minds, no one on this ship, or in my crew does. We read auras. Yours is full of curiosity and questions which is why you think I can read your mind.”

“Alright, well can you stop doing that now? You’ve made your point,” Aaliyah starts. She’s tired, and it’s just now sinking in that her grandfather, her last living relative, is dead. As she sinks down into the hammock supporting her body, Keres sits on the deck beside her, calm and soothing, suddenly washing over Aaliyah.

“I can change your aura as well, you feel it - don’t you?”

Aaliyah can barely nod in response, hardly able to move, but she’s not scared, instead she’s completely calm, her eyes fluttering closed. You’re an aura walker. Aaliyah can barely keep her thoughts straight, yet, she can’t understand how she didn’t realize that Keres was an aura walker upon glancing at her. Usually the silvery-white hair gives it away. Keres simply smiles at her, before standing back up, her magic releasing her, thoughts racing through her head once more, able to push herself up into a standing position, still a little wavery on her feet.

“I’m sorry for your loss. We all know about the fire - it consumed every square inch of your little field.” And the only father figure you’ve ever known. That bit went unspoken. Yet both of them knew that it was true. That she was completely on her own now. She appreciated how Keres didn’t bring it up though. She wasn’t sure how she might feel if she heard someone else put what happened into words. She was barely holding it together as it was.

“Just give me something to do. Keep me moving. Anything, I need to stay distracted.” Aaliyah found her mouth moving but could barely keep up with her desperate plea for anything to keep her mind off of what had just happened. Keres grimaces for a half a moment, then smiles.

“How about I teach you how to wield a sword, that way you don’t always have to run away after today.”

“Oh that’s not nec-”

“It wasn’t a suggestion. That’s what I’m doing for you, and you aren’t going to get out of it. Those men, they’ll be after you until you die or are in their hands. I don’t think you’d like either one of those, now would you?” Aaliyah shakes her head in response. “So I will be training you starting later this afternoon. No ifs, ands, or buts.” Aaliyah opens her mouth to argue with her, but Keres holds up a hand, immediately closing it into a fist, suddenly making Aaliyah not want to fight about the training anymore. She rolls her eyes at her, tension leaving her muscles as Keres unfurls her fist.

“Give me a little while to prepare, and when we pull into port, we’ll go get the items I need to train you the right way.”

“But I thought you were dropping me off once we arrived at the far west port,” Aaliyah insists.

“Yes, the far west. Not the northwest port. They come first. And they have the best weaponry.” Excitement suddenly strikes Aaliyah’s heart, rising up onto the balls of her feet to contain her excitement. “Yes, they also craft the best, and most successful potions and poisons. I never thought you would be so interested in them.”

“When you are raised on a farm, and sell fruits and magical needs to the northwest, you know where they are going to go. I've always wanted to know more about how they used our crops.” There’s no way you can say anything about how every inch of land was just scorched to ruin. People are going to want your head just for that alone.

“Just be sure you don’t mention the death of your grandfather, and the complete ruin of your farm to anyone there, or they may want you dead more than anyone already chasing you.” Voicing her thoughts once again, was Keres.

“Are you sure you can’t read minds?” Aaliyah asked semi-jokingly. Keres shrugged, hands in the pockets of her trousers.

“I really can’t but I can sense your thoughts just through your aura in some way. I don’t know why.” Keres doesn’t seem to mind that she doesn’t even know the root of her own magical entity. “It might have something to do with the curse, ya know?” Aaliyah’s eyes shot wide open at the mention of the curse, not entirely sure that she did in fact know what had been brought up now.

“What curse?” Aaliyah asked. Keres’ eyebrows arched in surprise.

“Well I don’t exactly know how to explain it, if there’s even a decent explanation of it at all. For starters it affects the witch lines mostly, and the main belief is that the gods are behind it. The myths - about the origin of my people - you have heard them have you not?” Aaliyah shrugs and shakes her head. “Well all I know is that some people think one of our own betrayed us and helped to bind the head goddess, that way they could control magic.”

“Why not just kill her and absorb her abilities?” Aaliyah asks in response.

“As far as we know, if one were to kill her, magic would die out completely. It would have the opposite effect of what we would hope. It was never an option, and it never will be. Although sometimes I think our world would actually be better without magic.”

“Really? Why?”

“Well if it weren’t for magic your grandfather would be alive and your farm would have been fine - it was magic that ruined your life - was it not?” At the mention of her grandfather, it all came flooding back. Sure enough she saw the black gloved hand outstretched, flames spreading from the palm. With a shudder, Aaliyah nodded in agreement.

“But I don’t think I want all magic to be gone, there’s some good magic,” Aaliyah insisted. Keres waved a finger at her.

“No, there is no such thing as good magic, light magic, dark or bad magic either. It’s all about the wielder. There are wielders who use magic for good or for bad, but bad and good magic don’t exist, it’s all based on the human temperament. Wavering and always adapting, hence magic always changing over time. Which is what scares me. I’d happily part with being an aura walker if it meant completely getting rid of magic.”

“Wouldn’t that kill you though, not being an aura walker after spending an eternity of being one?” Aaliyah asked, not realizing she was following her as she did her rounds around the ship.

“Who knows,” Keres said with a soft smile. “No one has ever exactly tried it, now have they? Even if that was the case I don’t think I would mind, I would think of it as making a sacrifice for the greater good - wouldn’t you?” Aaliyah shrugged, not quite sold on the extreme dangers of magic.

“I’m not sure, but I see what you mean if that’s any consolation,” she explained, doing her best to not anger her. Keres lifted an eyebrow in response, nodding and clearing her throat before walking the rest of the way back to her quarters, leaving Aaliyah in the middle of the ship on her own.